


little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter

by belantana



Category: Spooks | MI-5
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-24
Updated: 2010-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-14 01:52:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/144050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belantana/pseuds/belantana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The second time was never going to be as easy as the first.  Ros and a wildly AU post-S8 adventure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [delgaserasca](https://archiveofourown.org/users/delgaserasca/gifts).



The second time, Ros knew, was never going to be as easy as the first. She'd had full access to MI5's box of tricks, then. Single-use identities, passports, safehouses, slush accounts, ditch it all and double back and repeat until safe.

This time all she had was her own (admittedly considerable) charm and wit.

"You have me," her companion had joked as she smuggled him on to the midnight flight to Budapest.

"You," said Ros icily, "are not a help. You are the very definition of a hindrance."

He grinned at her through the fake moustache. "Whatever you say, my darling."

"See you there," Ros muttered. "Maybe."

It took her two weeks. Truth be told, part of her thought she'd never make it. Not because she thought she'd get caught (she was _way_ too good at this) but because after making the decision to escape from her old life in a literal ball of fire, it was natural that a girl might have second thoughts.

Ros Myers had never had a second thought in her life. Still, it was possible that a life eternally on the run would be preferrable to settling down on a sunny island with a man who drove her so crazy she wanted to kill him nearly as often as she wanted to get in his pants.

But after two weeks of doubling back across Europe – a day here, a day there, seven different passports and four nationalities – she was in no doubt she'd made the right choice. It was time to give up this nonsense for good.

She arrived at the final destination to find him waiting for her in the cafe at the bottom of the hill. "Hello there," he said with that smug grin, as if had been his own intellectual prowess that had got him here from London undetected. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Yes, fancy that," Ros deadpanned. She pointed the way to their accommodation and they began to walk up the hill. It wasn't far, but her feet were killing her and it was much too hot.

"Why Cyprus?" he asked.

"Someone I know used to live here. On the other side of the island." Ros gestured vaguely. "She was always talking about the sunshine and fresh fish and things. Sounded perfectly horrible."

"The last place on earth anyone would think to look for us?"

"Exactly."

They arrived at the villa. Ros dropped her bag unceremoniously on the front steps. It didn't need a coat of paint so much as a coat of bricks, to fill in the holes.

The ex-Home Secretary was nevertheless impressed. "Nice place. How did you get it?"

Ros kicked off her shoes and shoved him up against the wall.

"Oh right," he said, when she let him surface for air, "if you told me you'd have to kill me."

"I already did," Ros said, and kissed him again.

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to spinnd, who first mentioned the Cypriot villa! Title is from the Beatles' _Here Comes the Sun_.


End file.
